Lilies and Blue Love
by thisinfiniteplaylist
Summary: Ginny seems to have the perfect life:She is strong, fiercely independent, her career is taking off and she has the perfect relationship, so it seems. Her world falls apart when she discovers the truth about her love, but who's there to pick up the pieces?
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello lovelies! Here is my first fic after being away for quite some time from the fanfiction world. Please read and review, more chapters soon to come.**

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it. Sadly.**

Ginevra Weasley stood with her back to the wind, the streetlights around her reflecting in her eyes. Those warm, spicy brown eyes he had loved so much. She leaned into his unyielding body, tracing one finger softly on his cheekbone. "Forever," whispered Draco into the London night and to the woman he loved.

--

"And so, after all our adventures as the 'Golden Trio', I can't believe this day has finally come. For all her brains, Hermione wasn't smart enough to say no!" Laughter followed Harry's corny joke, and Ginny laughed along while idly tracing her finger around her champagne glass, waiting for Harry to wrap up his toast. She didn't notice his slight, barely perceptible falter.

"To Ron and Hermione, my best mates, and your happiness together for the years to come." Harry raised his glass and everyone followed suit. Ginny gave Harry a quick kiss as he sat down.

"That was great, Harry," she said fondly while wiping her lipstick off his face.

"Thanks, Gin," said Harry. "Excuse me for a sec, I have to go talk to someone. Why don't you dance with your brothers or something?"

Harry got up and started to walk quickly out of the tent and into the garden. During his toast, he caught sight of Demelza Robins, his old Quidditch teammate, and wanted to say hi. Harry followed her retreating figure speeding away from the festivities and into the inner part of the garden. Secluded by fairies and rose bushes, Demelza sank down and began softly crying. "It's not fair," she whispered to herself. "It's just not fair. She treated him so badly, why should Ginny be happy with Harry and I find that this kind of pain still hurts after all these years…"

Harry caught up with her a moment later and arrived in time to glimpse her black curls bobbing up and down while she sobbed. Taken aback, Harry said bewilderedly "Demelza…?" Demelza sprang to her feet and quickly wiped her tears before turning around. Her face registered complete shock as she cried, "Harry!"

Three weeks later, Demelza again cried out "Harry!". Only this time, it was in ecstasy instead of pain, and in Harry's bed instead of the Weasley's garden.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: What fun, the first chapter! Sorry it's rather short. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. At all. Not even a sense of sanity.**

Chapter 1

"Seriously, Harry? You're honestly going to sit there and lie to my face? If you're going to cheat on me, at least own up to it like a man," Ginny said placidly, sitting at the kitchen table.

"Wha-at?" Harry stammered, completely taken aback.

Eight seconds previously, Harry had just asked Ginny if she would consider moving in together. Apparently, she was the only one he could see himself with and he loved her. Ginny snorted. "You think I _didn't_ _know_? Give me some credit, Harry. But since you were so nice to bring it up, I should probably tell you that I'm done here." Harry looked aghast. "Gin, you can't. What – do you know what you're saying? We're meant to be together, you know that."

"I'm not the same girl from Hogwarts. I'm not going to sit around while you have your own life and then drop everything when you're ready. I think I deserve a little more than that. Bye, Harry. See you in the next life." Ginevra stood up swiftly, shaking her hair out and threw the door open. The walk to the corner to Apparate seemed excruciatingly long, but Ginny won the battle for control over her stony face. Harry's footsteps followed after her; his shouts fell on Ginny's deaf ears. Taking long strides and letting the cold air numb her skin, Ginny repeated a mantra in her head over and over. _I don't need him. I don't need anyone. When did I get so dependent on one person to be happy? Don't look back. Don't look back. Don't look back. _With a crack, Ginny disappeared and reappeared in her apartment, and before her emotions could catch up to her, she flung herself onto her bed and drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

For the next few days after the breakup, Ginny seemed to move like a robot. She tried to act like nothing was wrong and life was proceeding as usual. She threw herself into her work and let her cold bitch façade repel anyone from getting too close. She had, after all, been named one of _Witch Weekly_'s most successful women for a reason. Ginevra Weasley didn't feel, she just did. Anyone who got in the way would be mowed down. Because she was Ginny Weasley and she didn't need anyone.

But inevitably, it all caught up to her in the end and it only took the simplest of gestures. Walking out of the office, Ginny had knocked into an innocent passerby, and dropped her coffee. The passerby, a tall, lean young man, profusely apologized. Forgetting for a moment to put on her angry face, Ginny wrenched herself out of her own head and looked up into pretty, green eyes. She slowly tried to tune into what he was saying, but focusing on anything took some effort.

"…so sorry, I really am. Look, I'll get you another coffee, if you like. There's a nice little café down there. I'm Tom, Tom St. Lawrence. Did you get any coffee on your dress? Oh no…"

Everything that Ginny had very firmly ignored for exactly four days, nine hours, and seventeen minutes came crashing into her like a steel wall. The dam holding up her emotions and fragile state of mind blew apart in a matter of seconds.

In the next few blinks, Ginny involuntarily let down her iron armor. She could only keep up her cold illusion for so long. She started to shake uncontrollably, air coming in little gasps.

Lawrence St. Thomas, or whatever his name was, took the matter quite well, all things considered. Ginny frantically thought about what she might look like, makeup mingling with the tears streaking down her face and covered in coffee. The next minute, she decided she didn't care and emitted a piteous little wail. Tom, looking for all the world like a rabbit facing down a fox, said awkwardly, "Er…I'll pick up the dry cleaning bill, too?"

The tears flowed harder down Ginny's cheeks and she seemed rooted to the spot, despite her 5 inch power heels. It dawned on Tom that this sudden hysterical fit wasn't just over spilled coffee. He gently took her arm and led a shell shocked Ginny to the café. She sank into a soft chair and let sobs wrack her body. Incoherent jumbles of words made their way through Ginny's hands over her face. "...milda 'n' Harry... why?... I can't... gone… broken… move in…" Tom gingerly patted her on the back, completely unsure of what to do.

"I got her from here, mate," came a smooth voice.

Tom turned to see a muscular man with blond hair falling into his eyes, his face expressionless. Ginny was oblivious, still held her hands over her face and cried for England. Tom gave Ginny one last rub on the back, then bolted, quicker than a broomstick.

"Ginny," said the blond man gently, who looked fiercely incapable of doing anything gently with his powerful physique and chiseled, cold face. Nonetheless, his granite features softened slightly as Ginny raised her pink face from her hands. "Care for a sandwich?"


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter will include some flashbacks to the Order days, taking place during Half-Blood Prince/Deathly Hallows, whatever. Plz note that I am not strictly sticking to the books. Also, I got the whole buyer-asking-about-girl's-clothes part of the story from Lipstick Jungle by Candace Bushnell. Disclaimdisclaimdisclaim!**

Chapter 2

Draco thrashed around in his bed, old nightmares strangling him in darkness. Flashes of death, of pain, of torture enveloped his mind. He moaned, and whimpered feebly. His house elf, Roddin, cowered beside his master's bed, not knowing what to do. "M-Master?" he said tentatively. Draco bolted upright with a gasp, her name on his lips. She could always make the nightmares go away…

--

Rage coursed through every pore, every vein as he fired spell after spell. He needed this, letting everything go. He could taste the venomous flavor of anger at his father, so familiar to him but never as fierce as this. Draco barely heard the sharp knock at the door and just registered the red hair coming into the room before firing a hex in the general direction. In a matter of milliseconds, Ginny dropped the dinner-laden tray she had been carrying and flicked a Shield Charm into place, neatly deflecting the hex. "Just a tad jumpy, Malfoy?" she said as calmly as she could, not wanting to show any nerves or fear. Ginny started to bend down to clean up the mess, but there was none. The dinner tray hovered mere inches off the ground, but fully intact. Draco waved his wand and his dinner landed on top of his trunk, skidding a little as his arm shook with the vestiges of his temper.

"Nice reflexes, Weasley," he said gruffly, tucking into a piece of chicken pot pie. He fought for control over his emotions as he had been taught ever since he was young. It was quite ironic when you thought about it.

"They come in the package with six brothers. And you could say the same for yourself," Ginny said, still unnerved at all that had happened in the past half a minute. She leaned against the wardrobe and watched him eat. Every movement he made was precise and graceful. Draco was the complete master over his body, every gesture calculated and never letting anything in or out. She could almost see the intangible barrier he put around himself, hardened by years of abuse she could barely fathom. Ginny took a quiet breath to recover, then said coolly, "There's more downstairs if you're still hungry. And you need to shut up with the banging, you'll wake up all the portraits."

The next few days at headquarters were the same. Ginny continued to bring up his dinner, since he wasn't comfortable with everyone in the Order just yet; he was wary of them, while most couldn't bring themselves to trust him. Mrs. Weasley was sympathetic, and kept sending up trays with Ginny; however, she was one of few who believed Draco.

"I don't like it Gin. The prick might try something. Why can't you just make him eat downstairs with the rest of us?"

"Because of people like you, Ronald. You'd antagonize him 'til he started convulsing. And anyway, I can handle myself," Ginny snapped. She didn't mind taking up his dinner, and even if they didn't talk all that much, she was still fascinated by him. Draco had lost all of his previous compulsions of being an irritating git and had instead retreated into a hard shell. He had never been vulnerable in the first place, but after all that he'd been through, the petty things didn't seem to matter anymore. Ginny wasn't bothered by his cold silences. She took the time to study is features and the dead look in his eyes.

A few weeks later, Draco returned from his first mission as a spy for the Order. The Order had promised to take care of his mother, and he saw that they kept their word. This had started to earn his trust, and Draco knew that he would have to earn theirs. All things considered, his mission had gone reasonably well, he thought. Reasonably.

The house buzzed quietly with the Order's activity when Draco arrived back at the Black residence. He slipped upstairs into his room and collapsed facedown onto his bed. The familiar nightmares washed over him as he plummeted into a fitful sleep. Visions of his father and of Voldemort taunted him, his mother lying still on a stone floor…

Ginny knocked once, then walked in as usual with Draco's dinner. It took a moment for her to register Draco thrashing around on his bed, teeth clenched and shivering. Ginny hurriedly put the food down and rushed over. "Draco," she said, wincing at how harsh she sounded. She gently shook him. Draco opened his silvery eyes after a moment and quickly sat up. He couldn't stop shaking. Ginny had never seen him look so unguarded.

She reached out tentatively to touch him. He closed his eyes, but didn't say anything. Draco let himself be comforted, something that he had always been told was wrong. Her gentle touch felt foreign, but safe. Ginny's hands were unsure, as she had never really dealt with anything like this. All she knew was loudness, chaos, protecting herself from her brothers and everything else. She had braced herself for an angry Draco, a cold Draco, something predictable. She tried her best to best to bring him any kind of solace, gently stroking his arms.

Draco leaned against her, flinching slightly when she reached around to rub his back. Ginny felt a warm wetness and saw blood on her fingertips and stared at it, not quite understanding. She pulled up his shirt and had to stifle a gasp at the sight. Draco's back was covered in wounds, fresh and deep, and several looked infected. Blood and pus oozed out of a few, staining the open flesh around them. Ginny let out a breath, then swung into action.

Ginny pushed Draco down on the bed and went to the bathroom for some water to clean his back. "Take your shirt off," she called from the other room. Draco said with a trace of his old self, "Well, Weasley if you wanted to ravish me, you just had to ask." Ginny didn't grace his comment with reply, but at least he was showing signs of getting back to normal.

"Care for a sandwich?" she said, picking one up off the plate. "Here, you can bite down on it when it hurts while I'm cleaning your, er, cuts."

Draco looked at it in disbelief. "'Care for a sandwich'? You're being pretty cavalier about all of this, Gin- er, Weasley. Anyway, it doesn't hurt so much anymore." Despite this, he remained facedown on the bed, munching the sandwich quietly, not so much as wincing as the warm water washed away the crusted blood.

It was a while before either of them spoke, and though Ginny seemed perfectly comfortable with the silence, Draco desperately searched through his mind for something to say. He wasn't normally a conversationalist; rather, he sent withering glares at any happy-go-lucky person that tried to catch his interest with small talk. But he felt strangely drawn to this girl who meticulously tended his wounds, brought him dinner, and at the same time, maintained a fierce front. She wasn't stunningly beautiful like some of the Slytherin girls who often tried to seduce him. She had her own beauty, glowing from within, showing in small ways: when she glanced down at his face to make sure he was okay, when she shook her hair out of her face. The way her nose looked scrunched up in concentration. The intense look on her face just before she drew her wand, daring anything to hurt her.

"It's Ginevra, actually," she said, breaking the cottony quiet. "But everyone just calls me Ginny."

"Ginny…" he breathed. There was a pause. "It doesn't really hurt anymore. Open wounds, apparently, make the Cruciatus a tad worse, if you can believe it." He immediately winced inwardly. What kind of conversation starter was that?

Draco felt rather than saw the look of Ginny's pain, but was glad she didn't try to smother him with sympathy and an anguished "I'm sorry".

Her hands traced patterns on his hard back, more care in that slight movement than he had ever experienced…

--

Draco could swear he felt fingers tracing outlines of shapes on his back as he snapped out of his reverie by Marie-Esme's tentative knocking.

"Come in!" he barked, his usual steel barrier settling back into place.

His assistant poked her head around the door. "Mr. Malfoy, sir, Mr. Guttold has just called to request the meeting be moved from tomorrow to next week, as he is still in America."

"That will be fine. Is that all?"

"Er.. well, no sir." Marie-Esme took a deep breath and said in a shaky voice, "Can I please take the rest of the afternoon off? Only, there's this very important meeting that I absolutely must get to, and I'm terrible sorry for the short notice sir, but I only found out this morning, and I can call in Terry, she said she can be here at a moment's notice. I swear this won't happen again." Her rambling drifted off.

Draco stared at her impudence. It was very uncharacteristic of his secretary, who had never taken a sick day off in her life, and now she wanted to just up and leave in the middle of the work day. "Please explain this important meeting," he said.

Marie-Esme felt a wave of relief. The fact that he hadn't just fired her meant that she was somewhat safe. Employees had been let go for less. Mr. Malfoy could be absolutely ruthless at times. She took a nervous step into the office. "Well, you see, sir, I've been designing clothing for years now, and you know that I originally went to fashion school for university. On the tube this morning, a woman asked me where I got my jacket, and I told her I had designed it, and now she wants to see my other work."

"And who is this woman that she is important enough to demand your work?"

"Ginevra Weasley, a buyer for a clothing store in Overhye Alley in London."

Draco's face betrayed no emotion or thoughts. "You may leave for the day. However, leave Miss Weasley's contact information in case I need to reach you."

**A/N: So, yay! A new, longer chapter. Idk if I'll continue with this. I know the storyline isn't going anywhere, but this is more to showcase my lovely grammar and stuffs so I can officially be a betareader for the site. If you need one, holla at me. Plz review w/ constructive feedback! I'll try to update soon.**


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